On Cupboards
by Xelan
Summary: In Surrey, there is a little boy in a cupboard under the stairs... his parents might have something to say about that. Something different from me. Read carefully for full effect.


On Cupboards

By Xelan

Dislaimer: I own nothing except possibly Chris. All recognizable characters are owned by their respective owners.

**A/N: A warning, dear reader, you should read this story very, very carefully****.** Hated Jo's ending, my Hermione's middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion.

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In Surrey, in a house on Privet Drive, in a cupboard under the stairs, a little boy sits crouched before the locked door. He's been crying and although not painfully thin, he looks a bit peaked. The tears have begun to dry and he desperately wishes for his parents. Mindful of his sleeping Aunt and Uncle upstairs, he sullenly pulls his knees together and lowers his head to rest upon them. He will be let out tomorrow, he's almost certain, but he's likely to be punished, he's almost certain of that, too.

*pop*

At first he's not sure whether he dreamed the sound or not. He strains his ears to listen for the sound again - any sound, really. Then he hears it - the brisk clip clop of someone wearing high heeled shoes. A woman! He cringes at the thought that it might be his aunt.

Suddenly, the door flies opens with a creak and a bang as the door comes to rest noisily against the wall. Just as suddenly, gentle but strong arms are wrapped around him and he's lifted to her. He knows instinctively to whom those arms must belong!

"Mummy!" the little boy cries. "Oh Mummy, I wanted to see you so much." He buries his face in the crook of her neck and begins to sob tears of joy.

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_I am going to filet your uncle when I get my hands on him, s_he thought menacingly. Holding her son close to her and whispering softly that he would never be going into that cupboard again. She briefly entertained the thought of blowing up the stairwell entirely and her wand hand twitched ever so slightly at the thought.

A gentle pop was heard in the entranceway and man's firm footsteps were heard as he approached the two. "I know you were anxious to see him, Dear, but you don't have to rush... off... What's going on?"

"He was locked in that damned cupboard!" she instinctively covered her son's ears as she indulged in a very rare bout of cursing. "My child was locked in a bloody cupboard! I won't have it. I absolutely will not stand for this! I am SO very tempted to just blow the whole thing to smithereens."

She was beginning to look vexed, and like all good husbands, he knew that when his wife was vexed there were really only two things to do. One, get out of her way; or two, give her something to work out her annoyance on. Being braver than most, he decided to go with option two.

"I know a thing or two about cupboards. How about we try this..." He leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

After he explained his idea and the several questions that followed for clarification, she gave their slumbering son over to her husband and pulled her wand out and began to work.

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The next morning, a sleepy Dudley Dursely lumbered down the stairs to the ground floor. Turning past the banister, he padded past the cupboard door into the kitchen... at least he thought he should have passed the cupboard door. Blinking his eyes sleepily he squinted and then rubbed his eyes and then he finally just stared. The cupboard door was gone!

Not just the door was missing; in fact, the entire side of the stairwell was missing. In its place were several white posts to keep the stairwell useable and several gaping holes were sections of wall should be. Over the holes were brass curtain rods and the accompanying crimson curtains (or drapes, he wasn't quite sure) were neatly tied back with golden colored rope. It was open and airy and even seemed to fit the decor, but how did that happen? He knew he was a sound sleeper, but surely the noise it would take to do this to the stairwell would have woken him up. His puzzlement was short lived.

"Morning Big D" came Harry's pleasant voice. "Come in and have some pancakes. I'm just making the batter for yours now."

Harry being in the kitchen at this hour was certainly… odd, but it was not unfamiliar. At least he now knew how the stairwell had gotten changed. Shaking his head slightly, he wondered at how he could have overlooked such a simple answer – Magic, of course. He padded into the room and sat himself at the kitchen table. Glancing across the table, he noticed a familiar looking woman with a displeased look upon her face. Dudley swallowed involuntarily. He just **might** be in trouble.

The formidable woman gave a pointed glance at a large stack of pancakes sitting off to her side. "I think you have something to say to your Uncle," she prompted. It was only then that Dudley realized someone, someone less than adult size was sitting behind the massive stack of pancakes.

"Yes, Mummy." He took a deep breath and then sighed before looking up at Dudley with puppy dog-like eyes. "Uncle Dudley, I'm sorry I didn't eat my brussel sprouts for dinner."

Dudley was confused. "What? I could have sworn you cleaned your plate. Where did the veg go, then?"

Hermione looked at her son once more. "Yes, I'm also anxious to hear what became of your vegetables, young man."

With another long suffering sigh, the boy began to fiddle with his fork until his father called from over his shoulder. "Christopher Daniel Potter, your Mum and Uncle asked you a question."

"Fine. I snuck them to Crooks. What he did with them, I don't know. Now can I eat my pancakes?"

Hermione looked at her husband and raised an eyebrow. Harry just shrugged and began pouring more batter onto the griddle. Picking up the container of maple syrup, she began to pour the sweet, sticky liquid all over her son's large stack of pancakes. Setting the container down, she just sat there drumming her fingers.

"Mummy, can't I eat them yet?" he asked petulantly.

"Not just yet, Dear. First, I think you still have one more thing to apologize to your uncle over."

Rolling his eyes in a long suffering manner, Christopher turned to his uncle and mumbled something.

"Louder," called Harry. "Trust me son, it'll be over quicker and hurt much less if you give your Mum what she wants sooner rather than later."

"Uncle Dudley, I'm sorry I snuck downstairs to raid the icebox and got curious about Dad's cupboard and then accidentally got myself locked inside it all night." He said in a rush.

"Wait, what!"

"Mummmmy…. Do I have to say it again?"

"No, Dear. You can eat your breakfast, so long as you never do something like that again."

"Yes, Mum!" and he started eating. Harry ruffled Chris' already messy hair as a brought a stack of pancakes over to set in front of Dudley. Chris tried to complain through a full mouth of pancake, but both Harry and Hermione quickly admonished him not to speak with his mouth full. Harry joked, "We're not raising Ron: The Table Monster." Hermione smiled and immediately replied. "Certainly not. No child of mine would ever have such appalling table manners."

"He got trapped in the under stairs cupboard? Is he all right?"

"Yes, apparently, he got curious what it was like for Harry when he was his age." Her eyes narrowed.

"Oh." Was Dudley's response, not realizing the danger hadn't passed.

"Harry, Love, you never told him how your Aunt and Uncle made you stay under the stairwell when you were growing up, did you?"

Already guessing where this was going, he rapidly shook his head in the negative. "No, never." When Hermione's eyes were focused on Dudley's clueless face, Harry let out a soft sigh of relief. It was only when Harry whispered, "Sorry, Dud" before moving to sit next to his wife that Dudley had any inkling he was in trouble.

"And I certainly never told him, so one wonders where a young, impressionable boy with a tendency to get into trouble might have heard such a thing. Dudley?"

Dudley had been lifting a pancake to his mouth when the woman he now knew to be Hermione said his name. The way she said it made his blood run cold. He looked at her eyes, her cold, merciless, scary, brown eyes. "Umm… I may have said something about that… once or twice. It never occurred to me you hadn't told him," he stammered nervously.

Hermione had stood up and had taken a gentle but firm hold on her cousin-in-law and guided him out of the kitchen. Several minutes later a loud squeal could be heard. Several minutes passed and soon Hermione was leading a very pale looking Dudley Dursley back into his kitchen. "I trust we understand one another, Dudley?"

Dudley shook his head rapidly in the affirmative. "Yes Ma'm!"

Hermione smiled charmingly. "You can just call me Hermione. You are family, after all."

A shaken Dudley returned to his place at the table while Hermione busied herself in the kitchen. Soon after they had all resumed eating, Hermione returned to the table with a platter of bacon and sausages to go with their pancakes. Both Harry and Chris partook of the breakfast meats with gusto, but when Hermione offered them to Dudley he abruptly lost his appetite.

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**OMAKE **By Ralph S:

"Say, Dudley... what happened to your parents?" Hermione was honestly curious; she had hoped to meet them and voice her... displeasure.

"Well... you see... " Dudley squirmed.

IIIII

"Let us out! You FREAKS!"

"Look mummy! It's a real muggle!"

"And look, he doesn't have a wand!"

"Now, now, children. Don't scare the big fat muggle. Look, there's the warden - I think they're about to be fed! Do you want to watch?"

IIIII

"They're having tea with the neighbors."

Harry looked at Hermione and tried to suppress a guffaw.

Hermione looked at Harry and cocked an eyebrow.

"Tell you later," he mouthed.

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**Author's End Notes:** So this was my first foray into "leading the reader". Did I succeed? Were you surprised? Did it make sense? I would like to hear your thoughts both good and bad on the subject. Please Review.

Author's Suggestions: I've decided to start doing story recommendations of in progress and complete H/Hr or Harry/Hr/other stories

For short works, just about anything from Bingblot. I eagerly await more "A Matter of Destiny".

For much longer works, Radaslab's "30 Minutes II - The Gathering Storm".

For completed works, Robst's "A Kiss Can Save The World".


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